A Temporary Home

Par Caroline Kragerm, Photography Mariell Lind Hansen - 7 mn

Nine million people will answer ́yes ́ when asked if they are Londoners, while several millions more are continuously visiting the city, swarming like ants over Oxford Circus. Knocking each other over with their selfie-sticks, dragging along their newly purchased stationary emblazoned with Queen Elisabeth’s aloof face in thin plastic bags, they’re desperately ticking off as many tourist attractions as possible before leaving the English capital in need of yet another vacation. But just a few tube stops away, in Hackney Wick, this chaos feels very far away. In fact, I have to remind myself I’m still in the city, and not in a strange and fascinating village.

Wedged between a motorway and a canal, artists and bohemian spirits have, over the last 15 years or so, slowly taken residence in a web of old, closed-down factories. Here, peanuts were once peeled and boxed, synthetic plastic was produced, and delicate silk was spun into long fine threads. Like villagers, they live, share and ...